Cold Blooded
by Smackalicious
Summary: Ziva's not the only killer in the world. No pairings. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Cold Blooded  
Pairing: None  
Rating: R  
Genre: Gen  
Cat: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama  
Spoilers: None.  
Warnings: Violence.  
Summary: Ziva's not the only killer in the world.  
Author's Note: Written for the Angst Challenge on NFA. 7 chapters total. Complete.**

* * *

Black leather combat boots rose into brown cotton khaki pants. The boots made a soft clunking sound as the hips in the pants swished back and forth, left to right. Feminine movements, which only made sense, seeing as how the hips belonged to one Ziva David, Mossad Liaison with NCIS.

She didn't look it, but Ziva was one of the deadliest people in the world. Yes, the world. She had killed more people with her bare hands than her NCIS colleagues had with their guns blazing.

And that is just what she looked to do now.

NCIS had been called in regards to a dangerous terrorist, a woman who went by simply Twist, for her trademark style of assassination – she broke her victim's necks. Her methods were brutal, inhumane, savage. When Gibbs took the call, he knew there was only one way to go about this.

Ziva had to go in alone.

That led to this moment, Ziva standing her ground in the doorway of an abandoned warehouse. It was silent, the only sounds Ziva's breathing and the calm beats of her heart. She wasn't overly concerned. She'd been put in this sort of situation before, when she was in Israel. This was exactly what she was trained for.

Two sharp clacks on the concrete across the building made her focus. Her target had arrived.

A woman of much the same height, build and nationality as Ziva appeared from the shadows. She was even wearing a similar outfit. Ziva raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything.

The clacks continued, until the woman was about 50 feet from Ziva, in the center of the warehouse. She lifted her chin and acknowledged Ziva.

"We meet again."

Ziva gave her a steely look. "Indeed we do, Ms. Twist," she agreed, snapping the last two words.

Twist laughed lightly. "What have I told you, Ziva? It is simply," she made a wringing motion with her hands, "Twist."

Ziva continued to stare. "As you wish."

Twist stepped closer. "What brings you here? I am assuming you were not just in the neighborhood." She reached Ziva and flicked one of her curls. Ziva didn't move. Twist smirked. "You are well-trained, David. Sent in to, how do they say it in America, kick my butt?" She laughed again, only causing Ziva's eyes to darken.

"I have done it before," Ziva said, causing Twist's laughter to die.

"A _fluke_," she said, emphasizing the word by yanking on a strand of Ziva's hair. Ziva continued to glare, not saying anything, so she continued. "Try your best. I have heard America makes people _soft_." She smirked. "I am sure you would be heavily reprimanded for your actions should you choose to use your Mossad training on me."

Ziva considered her words. "Perhaps . . ."

Twist barked in triumph. "Ha! You will not get far, Princess."

Ziva's eyes darkened again. "But I have been sent in with the order to do what needs to be done. This one, my boss says, is off the record."

Twist sneered at Ziva. "You lie."

Ziva shook her head. "No. Unfortunately for you," her arm flashed out to grab Twist's, "I am telling the truth."

Twist stared into Ziva's eyes. The look was a sign; the talking was over. Now it was time to fight.

As Ziva crushed Twist's wrist in her grip, Twist threw her off-balance by thrusting a knee to her stomach. Ziva let out an 'oof!' of pain and doubled over only momentarily before reaching behind Twist and with a slicing motion, cutting her off at the knees, causing Twist to lose her balance and focus. It was the perfect opportunity for Ziva to grab her by the hair, pulling her up and laying a solid punch smack dab in the middle of Twist's nose.

"Bitch!" Twist screamed, as blood began to run down her face.

Ziva kept her face straight, though inside she was smirking to herself. It was always so rewarding to fight another woman, especially one whose skills rivaled her own. Women fought quite differently than men, Ziva had found, using their brains to outsmart their opponents, and Ziva was smart enough to not only know how to fight like a woman, but also use the simple but effective strength of a man.

That is just what she did now, as Twist scratched at Ziva's face, her rage overtaking her, the pain and anger clouding her best judgment, so much so that she missed Ziva's hand slipping down to her neck, her fingers tightening their grip on the skin . . .

Then, in a mater of seconds, with a sickening crack, it was over.

A body slumped to the floor, motionless.

Hollow clacks as one woman exited the warehouse, not looking back. She slammed the door behind her, climbed on a motorcycle, and was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter** **Two**

"A body's been found in an abandoned warehouse in Georgetown."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at Jenny. "And?"

She gave him a look. "Terrorist. Female. Went by Twist. Any of this ringing a bell?"

Gibbs continued to feign ignorance. "Should it?"

"Damnit, Jethro," Jenny cursed. "She was killed by her own technique. This has Mossad written all over it."

Gibbs didn't bat an eyelash. "You think Ziva did it."

She leaned across the desk, narrowing her eyes at him. "I _know_ she did it, Jethro. The question is, what are we going to do about it?"

Gibbs shrugged, still the picture of perfect calmness. "Nothing."

Jen's eyes blazed. "Nothing? _That's_ your solution? The authorities are going to be all over this and Ziva is going to be in a world of hurt."

"It was a sanctioned act," Gibbs said, his voice icy. He paused. "Where is she?"

"Ziva?" Jen asked. Gibbs nodded. "No idea. I thought you would know, since you're apparently in _charge_ of this little side project."

"Listen, Jen," Gibbs said, resting his elbows on her desk and leaning over it, "she was a threat to Americans. I thought you hated terrorists just as much as the rest of us."

Jen's eyes blazed again, then softened. Thoughts of her partnership with Ziva ran through her head. "I do, but we can't just take the law into our own hands like this. We work for the federal government. NCIS runs under different protocols than Mossad."

"Well, Jen," Gibbs said, rising from his seat, "it's done. She's dead. And Ziva killed her. I don't know what you want me to do."

Jen gave him a fierce look. "Find Ziva. Protect her. I won't have her life endangered because you felt some need to be in control."

Gibbs gave her a brief nod and exited the office. It was never his intent to put Ziva in danger; he trusted her skills and knew she could handle the job. He wouldn't have sent her otherwise. Still, now that Jen had mentioned it, Ziva hadn't returned yet, and she hadn't contacted him to let him know she was okay. He would just have to find her himself.

He jogged back down to the squad room, calling out, "McGee! DiNozzo!" The men turned their attention to Gibbs as he strode in front of them. "Either of you heard from Ziva?"

"No, Boss," Tony said, as McGee shook his head.

"She okay, Boss?" McGee asked, exchanging a concerned glance with Tony.

"That's what we're going to find out," Gibbs responded. "McGee, you're with me."

McGee grabbed his gear from his desk, while Tony gave Gibbs a questioning look. "Boss?" he asked.

"You're with Ducky," Gibbs told him.

Tony and McGee shared another look, this one confused. "Ducky?" Tony repeated.

"You're going to pick up a body," Gibbs explained, writing down an address and handing it to Tony. "Protection detail. This is a potentially dangerous scene." Tony nodded and Gibbs turned to McGee. "McGee. Cell phone, e-mail, GPS." He began walking to the elevator. "Let's find her, Tim."

As McGee rushed to join Gibbs in the elevator, Ziva was standing on the balcony of her apartment. She had come directly here rather than returning to NCIS, or even calling Gibbs, for reasons even she didn't know.

She had just killed a woman with her bare hands.

She'd done it before, when fighting for her own life, deep in the line of duty. But this was different. She had intentionally come into the situation without weapons, knowing she was there for one purpose and that was to kill.

She sat down and leaned back against the patio door. Gibbs knew she was capable of killing; that's why he'd sent her to do the job. But was the rest of the team aware of how cold blooded she really was? Would they ever look at her the same way after this? Tony would start being nice to her, Abby probably wouldn't talk to her at all or try to make her all girly and concerned about emotions, and McGee, sweet McGee, he would be terrified of her.

She'd come so far with them all. Peeking over a wall she'd so carefully built around herself, she had allowed her personality to show, and now . . . She wanted to add a layer of steel to that wall, make it completely impenetrable from the outside.

The team was going to see her as nothing more than a cold-blooded killer, so that was what Ziva would let them see.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"Boss, it looks . . ." McGee frowned as he studied his laptop on his lap.

"What, McGee?" Gibbs asked, glancing over at him as they reached a red light.

McGee looked at him, still frowning. "It looks like Ziva's at her apartment."

Gibbs bit back a curse. There was something keeping her from contacting him. He wasn't sure what it was, but it couldn't be good if she was simply at home, seemingly safe, but unwilling to talk.

Gibbs pressed on the gas and sped through the intersection, as McGee fidgeted in the passenger seat, nervous. "What's going on, Boss?" he asked. "What's going on with Ziva? Did she kill someone?"

"Yes," Gibbs answered simply.

McGee stared at him, wide-eyed. "Boss, we have to get to her . . ."

"What do you think we're doing, McGee?" Gibbs said, his voice calm yet frustrated. McGee kept quiet, so Gibbs spoke again, his tone softer, slightly guilt-ridden, this time. "We got a call about a well-known terrorist, with whom Ziva was very familiar. She was angry, I was angry . . . I acted on impulse."

McGee finally spoke. "She was following orders." His voice wavered, but he sounded as if he believed in what he said.

"I know, Tim," Gibbs said quietly. "Doesn't mean I'm proud of it."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, then as Ziva's apartment building came into view, McGee asked, "How'd she do it, Boss?"

Gibbs sighed. "You don't need to know that, McGee."

"Yeah, Boss, I do," McGee responded. It didn't sound like he really _wanted_ to hear it, but he knew he had to know. "What if she's . . . I don't know. I just know how I felt when I shot that cop, when I killed someone, and I know this is a different situation and Ziva's not me . . ."

"You're damn right she's not you, Tim," Gibbs interrupted him, coming to an abrupt halt in front of Ziva's apartment. He turned off the ignition and turned to McGee. "This is what Ziva did for a living before she came to NCIS. She's a killer."

McGee looked at his lap. "Not anymore," he said, barely audible.

But Gibbs heard him. And knew McGee was right. Ziva had relaxed a lot since she'd first come to NCIS. She had relationships, friendships with the team. She wasn't the heartless assassin she tried to make herself out to be when she started working for him.

"I know Ziva's a good person," McGee spoke, causing Gibbs to give a wan smile.

"I do, too, Tim," Gibbs agreed. "But good people sometimes do bad things."

McGee didn't say anything in response to that, but closed his laptop, setting it in the backseat and then turning back to Gibbs, who nodded and reached for his door handle. McGee echoed the movement and they exited the car, walking somberly to Ziva's apartment, knowing that this was not going to be an easy meeting.

Meanwhile, Tony and Ducky, along with Jimmy, had arrived at the warehouse to collect Twist's body. Tony was just as in the dark as McGee, knowing only this address and their mission.

He got out of the van first, needing to clear the scene and make sure it was safe for Ducky and Jimmy to get out. After skittering around the building and bursting in and out of doorways, he jogged back to the van, nodding his consent. Jimmy and Ducky exited the van, preparing their equipment, as Tony holstered his gun and headed into the warehouse to get a look at the body.

She was lying there on the concrete, hair splayed out around her head, which was settled at an unnatural angle. Tony squatted down beside her, shaking his head. He knew instantly. "You really did a number on her, Ziva," he muttered to himself. "Crazy Israeli chick."

The words were said with a note of sadness, but an overall sense of compassion for his teammate and friend. There was a lot more to Ziva than the "crazy Israeli chick." Not everyone was completely aware of that, but Tony knew. She was his partner.

Which made the fact that Gibbs sent him out here and took McGee with him just a little hard to stomach.

It was ridiculous of him to be jealous or hurt, but that was the way Tony operated. He'd pretend he didn't care, he was so aloof, but he cared. A lot. The team was all he really had, and he felt like Gibbs was leaving him out. He wanted to be there for Ziva, too.

"Anthony, are you alright?" Ducky's soothing voice broke into Tony's thoughts. Tony stood and gave Ducky a timid smile, causing Ducky to continue speaking. "Jethro trusts you, Anthony. He trusts you with my life, and Mr. Palmer's. You should take comfort in that." He gave Tony a pat on the shoulder, then returned to the body.

Tony wondered briefly how Ducky knew, both about Ziva and how he felt about the situation, but knew it was a waste of time to think about it. Ducky just knew.

Just then, Palmer walked in and, seeing Twist's body, let out a whistle. "Wow. Her killer must have been really heartless."

Tony gulped. Jimmy clearly didn't know who had killed her, as Ducky took a moment to explain to him what was going on, but his statement had still made him think.

Was Ziva really who they thought she was?


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

It seemed to take ages to reach Ziva's door. As they walked down the hallway, McGee suddenly stopped. Gibbs noticed after a few feet and stopped himself, turning back to his hesitant agent. "Should I have brought DiNozzo instead?" he asked, impatient.

"You never told me how she did it," McGee said quietly.

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Christ, McGee, is it really that important?"

"Maybe not to you, but I wasn't raised like Ziva," McGee said quietly. "I wasn't raised to kill people."

"It wasn't just some senseless killing," Gibbs said. "She was a threat to America."

McGee closed his eyes. "I know, I . . . How, Boss?"

"Broke her neck," Gibbs said. He watched McGee's expression and knew he was imagining Ziva doing it, and vividly, too. Damn him and his writer's imagination. After a few moments, he asked, "You okay, McGee?"

McGee nodded and opened his eyes. "Yeah. I just . . ." He nodded again. "We should go check on Ziva."

"You look like you're going to be sick," Gibbs said quietly. "I can go check on her myself."

McGee quickly shook his head. "No, I want to see her."

Gibbs shrugged and continued walking. McGee didn't sound completely sure of himself, but Gibbs knew he didn't have time to play babysitter. And McGee was going to have to see Ziva at some point, anyway. It was better to get it done sooner rather than later.

They approached Ziva's door and Gibbs knocked. After a moment, the door opened and Ziva stood in the doorway. "Oh, hi," she said, acting as if nothing had happened. "Would you like to come in?"

Gibbs opened his mouth to speak, but McGee spoke before he could. "Are you okay, Ziva?" he blurted out.

Ziva looked at him thoughtfully – was he really concerned about her? Perhaps he was just frightened of her. She smiled and gave a small laugh. "Of course, McGee. I am fine. Why would I not be?" She gave him a look like she was questioning his sanity.

"Um, well . . ." McGee started, trying to think of a way to tell her that he knew about what she had done.

"Gibbs told you about my activities this morning, yes?" she interrupted. McGee nodded. She shrugged. "I am sorry I did not come back to work. Tony was surely annoyed at having to do my share of the work on the Nelson case, yes?" McGee stared at her, too shocked by her behavior to say anything. She waved his look away. "Well, I am here and I am fine, McGee. And we may as well be on our way back to NCIS now."

"Ziva . . ." McGee started as she wandered around her apartment, grabbing a jacket and her gear. She didn't stop to acknowledge him. "You killed someone!"

"McGee," Gibbs said softly, but Ziva didn't seem to notice.

She turned to McGee, watching him. Finally, she said, "Yes, I killed someone. It was not the first time, and it will surely not be the last. Did you have a point?"

"Doesn't it . . . bother you?" he asked, and this time, Gibbs simply laid a hand on McGee's arm.

Ziva held up a hand at Gibbs' actions, signaling it was okay for him to ask. "You would think that, seeing as how, well, I was killing someone . . ."

"Breaking her neck . . ." McGee whispered, too shocked to care about what he was saying.

"Yes, that," Ziva agreed. "You would think that would be bothersome, but," she shrugged, "I have done it before. You get over these things."

Even Gibbs looked concerned now. "I made a mistake, Ziva. I'll admit to that. You have to pretend you weren't affected. I know . . . it can't be easy." He gave her a concerned look.

"You're right," Ziva said, and McGee's head shot up, surprised and relieved. "Do you _have_ any idea how difficult it truly is to break someone's neck? Especially with your bare hands?" She shook her head, looking at her hands. "I am surprised I did not break any bones while doing it. Well, except for Ms. Twist's, of course." She covered her mouth and laughed to herself.

If McGee had looked like he was going to be sick earlier, he now looked as if he was trying to decide between that and fainting. Gibbs noticed and patted him on the back, ordering, "Go to the car, McGee. I'll take care of things in here." He frowned at Ziva.

McGee nodded and scurried out the door, leaving Ziva looking momentarily pained before turning back to Gibbs, the mask firmly back in place. "I really am fine, Gibbs," she said, and flexed her hand to prove her point. "See? No harm done."

Gibbs glared at her. "What you did to McGee was unnecessary, David."

She crossed her arms over her chest. Gibbs didn't intimidate her. Or that's what she wanted him to believe, at least. "I cannot help it that he is so . . . sensitive. I did not think he would react so strongly to my words. He is a federal agent, after all."

"That doesn't mean he's not human," Gibbs said. "And I know you are, too, Ziva. I don't know why you won't let that show."

Ziva narrowed her eyes. She desperately wanted to break out of her shell, the armor she was hiding behind, and let Gibbs know that, yes, he was right, she was human and had feelings and killing that woman today had drained her and she felt positively awful about saying those things in front of McGee. But she couldn't say any of that. Not now, anyway. She already saw what McGee thought of her, and if he couldn't tell that something was wrong . . .

She lifted her head to meet Gibbs' look. "Would you prefer I put on a show for NCIS' sake?"

He walked closer to her, stopping shortly before he reached her. "I'd prefer it if you didn't put on any show at all. Now, we have work to do. You can continue to pretend you're _fine_ all you want, but I won't put up with you scaring the rest of the team." Ziva rolled her eyes. "You roll your eyes, but you know just as well as I do that you're _not_ making things better by acting like this. You saw McGee."

"I already said I was sorry," Ziva mumbled.

"Sorry isn't going to cut it, Ziva," Gibbs said, his voice getting progressively louder. "I can't have my team distrusting each other. Think about that before you come back to work or don't bother coming back at all." He turned and stalked from the apartment.

Ziva waited for the slam of the door that never came. It would have been something, a jolt to get her heart going, just something she needed and deserved. But there was nothing, just a tiny click.

Ziva stared at the door as the first tear of the day fell. That's what it had taken for her to cry, was Gibbs threatening to fire her. She was crying because she could lose her job, yet killing a woman with her own bare hands had produced nothing.

Was she really the killer she had been raised to be?

Outside, Gibbs had reached the car, and saw McGee in the passenger seat, staring down at his lap. His expression was unreadable: shock, sickness, thoughtfulness? Gibbs had to find out.

He opened the driver's side door and slid in. "You okay, McGee?"

McGee slowly lifted his head to look at him. Scared. That was one expression Gibbs had forgotten. "Boss, Ziva . . ." He trailed off, not knowing the words to go on.

"I know, McGee," Gibbs said quietly. This was what he had been afraid of happening.

"No, Boss, you don't," McGee said, and Gibbs looked at him, interested. McGee shook his head. "I can't work with her anymore."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

"Excuse me?" Gibbs had expected a bit of a negative reaction, and had even threatened Ziva's position at NCIS, but he didn't think the situation would come to anything that drastic.

McGee shook his head. "If Ziva's going to act like this, how she did back there . . . Why doesn't she trust us, Boss?"

"I don't think it's that, McGee," Gibbs said, relieved that McGee was simply referring to the show Ziva had put on. "She's scared."

"_I'm_ scared, Boss," McGee broke in. "I don't want her to think I think she's this horrible person without feelings. I know that's what she's trying to make us think, but I don't buy it."

"Well, the way you acted back there didn't help matters any."

"Natural reaction," McGee muttered.

Gibbs nodded. "I know. This isn't your fault, Tim."

McGee gave him a curious look. "What do you mean, Boss?"

Gibbs stared out the windshield. "It's my fault. I acted out of anger and now, I've jeopardized my team."

"Oh, no, Boss," McGee breathed. "When I said I couldn't work with Ziva anymore, I just meant that she's being ridiculous and I don't like it . . ."

"I told you it's not your fault," Gibbs said. He paused. "I told Ziva if she didn't start telling the truth, she shouldn't bother coming back to NCIS."

"You threatened to _fire_ her?" McGee asked incredulously. He immediately grimaced at his tone. "Sorry, Boss. I just . . ." He trailed off and gave Gibbs a nervous look. "She'll come back, right?"

Gibbs shrugged. "That's up to her, McGee. It won't be easy, but I'm sure she'll come around." He turned the key in the ignition, bringing the car to life. He looked into his side view mirror, adding in his head, _She has to_.

And with that, they were gone.

At the warehouse, Palmer and Ducky had bagged Twist's body, as Tony kept an eye out for suspicious outside activity. However, his mind was completely somewhere else. All he could think about was Palmer's words and how that might really be who Ziva was.

He didn't want to believe it. Sure, Ziva was a little closed off, but he couldn't bring himself to think that she was, as Palmer put it, heartless. He'd seen her vulnerable before, had seen her eyes in those moments. Her mouth may say one thing, but her eyes wouldn't lie.

He had to get back to NCIS and find out for himself.

"Tony, we're ready to go," Ducky's voice sounded behind him. Tony turned, smiling wanly at Ducky, who echoed the action, saying softly, "Everything will be fine, my boy. Jethro will take care of this." He motioned to the van, now holding Twist's body.

Tony looked to where Ducky was pointing and spoke quietly. "It's not the dead one I'm worried about." He walked to the van, climbed in, and they took off, headed back to NCIS to find out what was really going on.

The object of everyone's thoughts sat alone, quiet, in her apartment. Ziva stared at the coffee table in front of her, silent tears running down her face. She had to resolve this. She couldn't lose the team. She cared too much about them . . .

Her cell phone suddenly rang, jolting her from her thoughts. She quickly grabbed for it, hoping it was Gibbs or McGee to let her know everything was going to be okay, that they all knew she wasn't as emotionless as she seemed.

She was surprised to see Jen's private cell number on her caller ID. She answered. "Ziva."

"Ziva, I don't know where you are, but you better get back to NCIS _now_," Jen said, all business.

Ziva smirked through her tears. Jen certainly didn't waste any time. "Gibbs and McGee have returned, I presume? Director, I . . ." she started, prepared to let her know she had made a mistake in the way she'd acted with Gibbs and McGee.

"It can wait, Ziva," Jen insisted, and Ziva frowned, recognizing her tone. This was not as simple as Gibbs and McGee.

"What is it?" Ziva asked.

Jen let out a heavy breath. "It's the FBI. They want to talk to you." Ziva's eyes grew slightly wider. "They know, Ziva. And unless you get to NCIS right now, you're going to be in loads of trouble."

Before Ziva could respond, Jen had hung up on her. Ziva stared at the phone for a moment before grabbing her gear and heading out the door.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

"Any luck tracking down the elusive Israeli?"

McGee let out a huff as Tony's head appeared next to his. "I wish you wouldn't do that, Tony."

Tony stood, wandering around to the front of McGee's desk. "Just practicing my Ziva impression. You know, in case she doesn't come back."

McGee grew even more serious. "That's not funny, Tony," he said, his voice dark.

Tony sobered. "Whoa, sorry, Probie. Did . . ." He paused, not really wanting to ask the question. "Is Ziva okay?"

McGee let his anger fade away as he realized how serious he sounded. Tony probably thought Ziva was dead with the way he was acting. "Yeah, she's okay." Tony let out a sigh of relief. "Well, for the most part."

Tony frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

McGee shrugged. "She's got a few bumps and bruises, nothing serious. Emotionally, though . . ."

"What?" Tony asked, almost holding his breath.

"I don't know. She won't say." McGee gave Tony a look that told Tony a lot more had happened.

"Well, maybe I should try talking to her," Tony suggested. McGee simply laughed, which earned a glare from Tony. "What's so funny?"

"Face it, Tony," McGee said. "Charm does not work on Ziva. Besides, she's just not going to talk to you."

Tony almost growled, he was so annoyed. "Oh, and she would talk to you, McCounselor?"

"Probably not," McGee admitted. "But I do know who she _will_ talk to." He turned his gaze upwards, towards MTAC and . . .

"Jenny," Tony said, and found McGee raising an eyebrow at him when he looked at him again. "Uh, I mean, the Director. They used to be partners once upon a time. I'm sure there's some level of trust there. Plus, J – the Director's a woman. Might make her more comfortable to talk to her."

"Look who's psychoanalyzing now," McGee said, grinning. "You may be right, but that's not who I was thinking of."

Tony narrowed his eyes. "Then who?"

McGee raised his eyes to the balcony again, and this time when Tony looked up, he saw Gibbs pacing back and forth, as if he was impatiently awaiting something. And he was.

As Tony contemplated McGee's words, the elevator dinged its arrival and both Tony and McGee instinctively looked over to see who it was. Ziva walked out, meeting their surprised looks only briefly before diverting her eyes and walking to the stairs that led to Jen's office.

Tony and McGee watched her disregard them, disappointed but not really shocked. McGee was the first to speak. "Told ya so."

Tony sighed. "I'll never doubt you again, Probie." He paused. "Which is probably not true, but it felt like the thing to say."

McGee rolled his eyes, then leaned back in his chair, gazing at Jen's office door. "I wonder what's going on up there . . ."

"Gibbs?" Ziva sounded surprised to see the older man sitting across from Jen, who was silently showing her authority by sitting at her desk, hands folded neatly on the wooden surface. Ziva turned to her, her eyes demanding answers. "Where are they?"

Jen pursed her lips momentarily, then shifted her eyes to Gibbs, signaling for him to explain. Ziva's gaze shot back to him. "There aren't any FBI agents." Ziva rolled her eyes. "But it got you back here."

"If all you wanted was for me to come back, you could have just said so," Ziva said, resigning herself to a chair next to Gibbs. Jen looked surprised at the action. "What? I am assuming you wanted to talk. So . . . let us talk."

"Well," Jen started, unfolding her hands and laying them palms down on her desk, thereby relinquishing the power to Ziva, "you're the one in danger. You start."

Ziva took a deep breath. "First off, I would like to apologize for the way I acted earlier." She shook her head, remembering the look on McGee's face.

Gibbs nodded slowly. "You hurt McGee."

"I know," Ziva said, closing her eyes against the memory. "I should not have been so crass."

"That's not what I meant, Ziva," Gibbs said, and she opened her eyes and gave him a wary look. "He saw right through your little act."

She looked surprised, then smiled to herself. "I knew he would," she said softly.

"Then why bother lying in the first place?" Jen asked, her face a map of concern.

Ziva let out an exasperated huff. "I am not American." At Gibbs and Jen's confused looks, she elaborated. "I am not _like_ Americans. I am far too accustomed to death for it to affect me as it should." She dipped her head. "I did not even cry after killing her. It has become such a part of my life that it left me feeling nothing."

"That can't be true, Ziva," Jen said. "You're here, feeling badly for what happened. Something propelled you to do that."

Ziva chuckled softly. "Yes, you. I came because I thought I had a duty to the federal government."

"You do," Gibbs said, and Ziva gave him a questioning look. "_We_ are the federal government, Ziva. NCIS. And it's your duty to tell us the truth."

Ziva gave him a fierce look. "What was I supposed to say? Was I to describe in detail how her flesh felt beneath my hands, how she didn't even make a sound because she did not see it coming, the sound of her body hitting the cement? Because I will never be able to forget any of those details. I remember every moment of every kill I have ever made. I may not react like Tony or McGee, but that is because I know it is never over, there will always be more death." Her expression had changed to one of painful memories.

Jen gave her a sympathetic look. "There _is_ good in the world, Ziva. And life. You can't live your life waiting for everything around you to die."

Ziva gave her a wan smile. "I know. NCIS has shown me that. You are all so . . . human. It takes some getting accustomed to."

Jen smiled. "Well, we don't want you going anywhere, so I hope you adjust quickly." Ziva returned the smile and there was a brief moment of silence before Gibbs spoke.

"This isn't over, you know," he said, and Ziva nodded, somber again. McGee deserved an apology, and she hadn't spoke to Tony at all yet. She needed to clear the air with them before things could be normal again. "Go. And make it fast. We need to get back to work."

Ziva nodded once and stood, exiting the office. Once she was out of the room, Jen spoke.

"She's getting better," she said, and Gibbs shrugged. She sighed. This whole thing happened because of him and he knew it. But Jen knew there was more to it than that, that this would have happened eventually anyway.

Ziva needed to understand that the team cared about her, _for_ her, and she didn't have to hide herself away. They all needed to understand that about each other. There was so much trust and respect being traded, yet there remained so many secrets, so much they kept from each other.

It was a matter of letting go and opening up, and Jen hoped, as all their boss and as a friend, that by Ziva making that step, the others would be soon to follow. It would strengthen their bond and make them even more cohesive as a team.

The only question that remained now was if Ziva had it in her to expose herself . . . or if she would retreat further back into her shell, shutting them all out forever.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

"What do you think's going on up there?" Tony asked, peering at the Director's office door.

"Don't know, Tony," McGee muttered, not following Tony's line of vision. He had chosen to return to work, to get his mind off the situation.

Tony looked over at him. "Aren't you even curious? I mean, you should've seen what this chick looked like . . ."

"I _know_, Tony," McGee said forcefully, looking up and meeting Tony's eyes. He frowned. "Ziva . . . explained."

"What do you mean, 'explained'?" Tony asked, but his question trailed off into nothingness as he saw Ziva exit the Director's office and descend the stairs.

She reached the main floor and finally met their eyes, an intense silence enveloping the three of them. Tony opened his mouth to speak, but Ziva started talking before he could say anything.

"I am sorry I did not come back to work sooner. I should have told you what was going on." She walked a few feet to her desk and sat down.

"Well," Tony started, standing and walking to her desk as McGee watched curiously, "I don't see you any differently. You're still the same ass-kicking Ziva I'm used to." McGee closed his eyes and let out a quiet groan.

Ziva was quiet in her response, as well. "I am glad your opinion of me has not changed," she said, and Tony beamed at McGee, sure he had made everything all better. McGee just shook his head and then found himself with a surprised look on his face as Ziva said, "McGee? I would like to talk to you." She looked over to where Tony was sitting happily at his desk. "Alone."

"Uh, yeah, sure," McGee said, standing and following Ziva to the elevator, exchanging a confused shrug with Tony as he went.

They reached the elevator and waited for the doors to open, an awkward silence filling the time. The door opened and McGee motioned for Ziva to go first, then followed her inside. He stood primly on the right side of the car, while Ziva stood on the left . . . by the control panel. As soon as the doors closed and the car began descending, she reached over and brought the elevator to a halt, just as she had seen Gibbs do many times.

She turned towards McGee and they both said, "I'm sorry," simultaneously.

McGee blushed slightly. "Sorry. You go first."

Ziva nodded, thinking of what she wanted to say. "I should not have acted the way I did earlier. It was cruel. I could not bring myself to say how I actually felt."

McGee felt a lump in his throat. He never really thought about how much Ziva's past and what she was trained to do affected her. He should have known it did, because she was human and clearly had morals and compassion for human life. But she never let that show.

"McGee?"

He looked up and gave Ziva a curious look. "How _do_ you feel, Ziva?" he asked.

She smiled a little. "No one ever thinks to ask me that, have you realized that?" He nodded slowly. It was true. They all assumed she could handle herself. It had to be hard to keep it all to herself. She let out a sigh and continued. "I am confused. I did not even cry until Gibbs threatened to fire me if I did not start being honest with all of you. That is not normal."

McGee swallowed. "Everyone has different reactions to death," he attempted.

She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I wish I saw things the way you do, Tim."

He shook his head, the lump in his throat returning. "No you don't, Ziva. We're in law enforcement. Every day can be a struggle for me, wondering if I'm going to be forced to kill someone." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I do this job to help people, not hurt them."

Ziva nodded quickly, sniffing back her tears. "The first time I ever killed someone, I had nightmares for a week," she confessed, and McGee gave her a surprised look. She continued, ignoring his reaction. "I would imagine that person's family grieving, crying over the loss of their son, brother, uncle, cousin . . . It did not matter that he was 'bad.'" She sighed. "It is never-ending."

McGee gave her a thoughtful look. "I knew you were lying to me earlier." She nodded. "I should have said something then, but I freaked out. And . . ." he lowered his voice, embarrassed, "I felt hurt that you were lying to me."

Ziva nodded. "I feel awful about that, McGee. I cannot imagine it would be easy for you to trust me now, but I _do_ trust you. I want you to know that."

He smiled very slightly. "Thanks, Ziva. I'd like to think we're friends, so that means a lot." He paused. "We _are_ friends, aren't we?"

Ziva was so shocked by the change in tone that she didn't react at first, then let out a laugh. "Of course, McGee." She smiled. "You are a very good friend. I am glad you are in my life."

McGee grinned. "I'm glad you're in my life, too, Ziva." He grew silent, and Ziva could sense what he wanted to ask her but was afraid to.

"McGee," she said, and he looked up at her, an innocent look on his face. She smiled. "You want a hug, don't you?"

He blushed a little. "I know you're not much of a hugger . . ."

He was cut off by Ziva pressing her body against his, her arms encircling him. He stood still, unsure of how to react. Ziva laughed against his shirt. "I am not going to bite you."

McGee relaxed, laughing a bit himself and wrapping his arms around Ziva and giving her a squeeze. "I'm glad you were honest with me, Ziva." He rubbed her back absent-mindedly and Ziva looked up at him.

"It feels nice to not have to keep everything inside anymore," she said. "However, neither you nor Tony should expect to learn the details of my sex life now."

"I would never ask, Ziva," McGee said, loosening his grip on her.

Ziva smiled. "And that is why I chose to talk to you." She pulled back and patted his nose.

"Uh, thanks, I guess," he said, as Ziva gave a girlish laugh and turned to the control panel, reviving the elevator.

They returned to the main floor, stepping out to the everyday activity of NCIS. McGee gave Ziva a final pat on the back and smiled at her before returning to his desk. Ziva took a deep breath and headed after McGee, knowing she still had to make things right with Gibbs, let him know that good came out of this.

She was suddenly standing in front of Gibbs' desk and found him looking up at her. "Yes?" he asked.

Ziva swallowed and considered her words. Gibbs wasn't one for flowery speeches, so she wanted to keep things brief. She finally said, "Thank you."

He raised an eyebrow at her, so she continued. "If you had not sent me to kill that . . . terrorist today, I would still be hiding who I am from all of you. If you had not confronted me, I may have continued to keep secrets from everyone, and that is not fair to you. You put your trust in me and I should pay respect to that by being honest about myself." She let out a breath, having finished, and waited for a response from Gibbs.

"You done?" he asked, and Ziva nodded. "Alright. Let's get back to work." He looked across to Tony and McGee, who had paused in their own work to watch. They quickly returned to what they were doing.

Ziva managed to hide her disappointment at his reaction as she turned back for her desk. As she did, however, she heard Gibbs' voice again.

"And Ziva?" She turned, meeting his gaze. "You're welcome."

This time, she couldn't keep the emotion from her face, and broke into a smile. Gibbs grinned himself. How anyone could have thought Ziva was cold blooded was beyond him, because at this moment, he saw her for who she really was, and that person was all heart.

**THE END!  
**


End file.
